Meta

Subscribe

Archive for the ‘Yom Kippur’ Category

Today is our One Year Anniversary in Israel. It is also the day after Yom Kippur.

What do I miss from the Old Country?

I miss my rabbi’s voice during the services. I miss his special niggunim.

I miss my friends. How can you not miss people you have grown to love over sixteen years?I miss knowing that someone would go in to The Dearly Beloved during Yizkor and touch him on the shoulder, bringing him back gently from the dark abyss of missing people he loved.

I miss the ease of communicating deep thoughts in English, something I’ll be working at for a long time in Hebrew.

Baruch Hashem, I don’t miss “stuff,” or places. Only people, and easy communication with them. What do I love about my Ancient/New Homeland?

I love that the beit knesset is full of teenagers. Most of them stay for most of the davening. I don’t know why. But I am glad. Even my teenagers stay.

I love the new niggunim (which include a potpourri of Ashkenazic, Sephardic, and Chassidic melodies), and that most of the kehilla sings. There is a lot of singing. I love that I can sort out the words of the liturgy, because it is in modern Hebrew pronunciation, which I have always deciphered more clearly than Ashkenazic.

I like this new rabbi. He can’t replace our rav in Baltimore. You can’t replace people. But he will be great at being our Israel rav.

I love the smiles and greetings from new friends. They are genuinely happy that we are here. Not just us — they are very happy to have olim make the effort to come. They are very supportive.

I love the touch of gratitude from a new friend, whose shoulder I touched during Yizkor, when it was clear that she was having a hard time digging out of the abyss of missing people she had loved.

The long and the short of it is that change is hard. And change is good. As hard as it is to be ahead of the Baltimore friends (– and I truly believe we are only ahead of them in making aliyah –), I am so grateful to be a tiny part of repopulating our precious Land, perhaps moments before the Geula. Ezra and Nechemia, I am very sorry we didn’t listen to you when you first invited us. But we are here now. And our first year has been wonderful!

Thank You, Borei Olam, for letting mere us be part of Your Great Adventure! Please bring our siblings Home soon.

I saw one of those human interest stories on Jerusalem Online the other day. Sort of a random “man in the street” interview about Yom Kippur. People were asked what bad things had been done to them in the past year. There were various responses, from the general to the specific. A few people expressed such happiness with their lives that they could think of no one who had wronged them.

Then the interviewer apparently asked the same people what they had done wrong in the past year. The responses were interestingly patterned, and in some cases, disturbing.

Those who had felt that the world had not wronged them were consistently able to name some thing that they had done wrong. “Maybe a little lashon hara, which I try not to do,” said one jovial woman, looking embarrassed. “I’ll try to get better about it.” Thus expressing the three-part Jewish formula for teshuva, repentance: owning the mistake; expressing regret; and sincerely stating the plan to improve the behavior.

Others mentioned — on camera, and with no apparent remorse — such “little naughties” as getting drunk (this from a twelve-year-old), and from a middle-aged man, having a relationship with someone who is married. I felt very sad for them, and for their families and friends who might have seen the interview.

But the most troubling of all were those who felt they had been wronged, but who themselves didn’t wrong anyone else. “I don’t do bad things,” was said by two of these interviewees.

@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*

To those whom I have wronged through a careless or flippant word: I’m sorry.

To those whom I have wronged through neglect: I’m sorry.

To those whom I have wronged by being less than honest in any dealings: I’m sorry.

To those whom I have failed to give the benefit of the doubt: I’m sorry.

And to those whom I have hurt without my knowledge: I’m sorry.

(There’s a lot more to type… but we all have things to do before sunset… Please feel free to let me know of any specifics.)

I really will try to improve my behavior. And if you think you did something wrong to me, you should know that I forgive you. May we all be sealed in the Book of Life. I so want to be there to see the Geula, hand in hand with you. May it be very soon!